


Lovely Eyes and Lovely Lies

by Pippinpaddleopsicopolis (Barnable)



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Future Fic, Light Angst, M/M, Ozai (Avatar) is an Asshole, POV Sokka (Avatar), Zuko (Avatar) Needs a Hug, Zuko's Scar (Avatar), they're married your honor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:20:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25624267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Barnable/pseuds/Pippinpaddleopsicopolis
Summary: Sokka returns to his chambers after a long day of work, only to find his husband paralyzed by demons from his past. Unable to stand the sight for more than a second, he resolves to find a way to make the Fire Lord smile; even if that means complimenting his entire face.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 417





	Lovely Eyes and Lovely Lies

“Zuko?”

It was weird for him to still be awake at that hour. He rarely stayed up beyond a certain point past sundown, and even when Sokka wasn’t in the room with him, he was still generally half-asleep by the time he walked in. But not that night. No, instead of sleeping the way he was meant to be, curled up on his side waiting for his husband to come and join him, he was sat in front of the vanity. At first, Sokka thought he might’ve fallen asleep there, as it wouldn’t be the first time (with the amount of responsibility on his shoulders, he was particularly prone to falling asleep in strange places), but as closed the door behind him, stepping closer to the Fire Lord, he realized he was wrong. Zuko was wide awake, staring in the mirror blankly.

He was dressed in his nightclothes, meaning he must’ve at least _intended_ to go to bed at one point, though he hadn’t quite made it there. His long, dark hair was spilling over his shoulders, blocking any view of his face from the side or behind. As he approached his husband, however, Sokka realized he was shaking ever so slightly, one hand gripping onto his pantleg as he blinked silently. Wanting to close the distance between them, Sokka knelt down when he reached Zuko’s side, reaching out to brush back the hair blocking his face, and to take hold of his fidgeting right hand; freezing when he realized that the left was positioned backward on his face and nearly covering his scar. Zuko squeezed Sokka’s hand, their fingers lacing together, but didn’t say a word.

“Zuko, babe, are you all right?” The harder Zuko gripped his palm, the more concerned Sokka grew, but he didn’t push him to answer. Not until just too long passed without a word, a look, or a movement from his left hand. “Hey, it’s okay. You can talk to me.”

Neither the soft voice nor reassuring words helped a bit. At least, not visually. Instead of responding, instead of telling Sokka what was wrong so he could do something to ease his pain, Zuko just blinked again, his right eye moving back and forth between the mirror in front of him and to the left at his scarred eye. His gaze must’ve lingered on the scar for a little too long because he squeezed Sokka’s hand again, a single tear slipping from his open eye as he turned to look at it straight on. More than anything, Sokka wanted to just get up and yank him into a hug, to comfort his husband and make him feel safe and better about whatever was bothering him, but he knew it wouldn’t be enough. Zuko needed to work through whatever was happening, not bury himself in a hug and pretend it had gone away.

“My hands are smaller than his.”

The Fire Lord’s words fell flat, and, admittedly, it took Sokka a little longer than it should’ve to understand what he meant. When he did, he finally cracked. Trying to imagine life without a scar or pretending he could still see in that eye was one thing, but for Zuko to be forcing his mind to replay the traumatizing events which happened with the referenced hand upon it. Sokka gently pulled Zuko’s hand away from his face, lowering it to his side before pulling his husband into his chest and allowing him a moment to breathe. Zuko didn’t hold back right away, just leaned against Sokka’s chest and melted into his strong arms; tears soaking into his husband’s shirt, though he barely made a sound.

Sokka stayed silent for a while, wanting to give Zuko the space to calm down before he asked about what happened. He kept one hand around his husband’s back, moving the other to brush away the tangled hair that covered his face. He leaned down to press a kiss to the top of Zuko’s head when he gripped tightly to Sokka’s shirt, a deep, shuddering breath making its way through his thin frame.

What hurt the most was that Sokka had no idea what was wrong. He knew now that Zuko was deeply troubled by his worst memories, the heaviest traumas, but he didn’t know what triggered it. When they last spoke around lunchtime, he was perfectly fine, albeit a little stressed from a meeting he’d had that morning. But since then, something must’ve clicked. Something must’ve set him off into a tailwind of bad thoughts. It wouldn’t be the first time, and unfortunately, he doubted it would be the last. Both he and Zuko had their fair share of bad memories and repressed traumas, and when it was brought up again, it was almost impossible to ignore; just like the words his husband spoke, finally breaking their mutual silence.

“Do you think I look like him?” he asked, his voice quiet. His fingers twisted around the front of Sokka’s shirt, aching for comfort. Sokka pulled him closer, opening his mouth to speak, to say it wasn’t true, but was cut off before he could. “People always told me I had my mother’s eyes but… I have his nose, and his jawline, and now, even my hair is… the only reason I’m not him is because he branded me. The one thing I have, the one thing that’s just _Zuko_ , it’s him too. It’s all him. The older I get, I’m just– I’m turning into _him_.”

“No, you’re not. Zuko.” Gently, Sokka pushed his husband away from him, running his thumbs over either side of his flushed pink face to brush away the tears. He waited for Zuko to glance up at him before he spoke, though the Fire Lord’s gaze already drifted back down before he did. “You do _not_ look like that asshole. The only way you could _ever_ resemble him is in genetics. Which, I guess, is what you’re saying, but you know what I mean. For one thing, you might have long hair, but it doesn’t look a damn thing like his. His was greasy and straight and uptight and yours is… it’s soft and wavy and it’s so, _so_ fluffy.”

Zuko looked up for the briefest second as Sokka dragged his hand through his hair, a soft smile on his face as his fingers made their way through the familiar, silky locks. His hair must’ve been two feet long at that point and though Zuko pretty much hit his limit and had it trimmed every few weeks, Sokka loved every inch of it. Words couldn’t even express how grateful he was to be the one who got to braid it every night, and so, instead of trying to explain just how much he adored Zuko’s beautiful, _beautiful_ hair, he moved onto the next point; dragging his fingers through Zuko’s locks and around to trace his jawline.

“You don’t have his jawline either.” He gently stroked the Fire Lord’s face with his thumb, smiling slightly when they made eye contact, though Zuko again turned his gaze away. “He had those scary, aggressively sharp bones and your face is soft. I think, actually, you take after your mother more there too. I mean, you have sharper features than her because you’re not a woman, but your chin is rounder and gentler and it doesn’t look like it might cut me if I wanted to kiss you.”

He didn’t kiss Zuko, not right then, but he slid his thumb along his bottom lip, feeling across the chapped skin and ever so light stubble. Though his husband still hadn’t said another word, Sokka could feel that he was starting to calm down. His breaths slowly began to relax, his eyes losing their shiny glaze as the tears stopped dripping beneath them. Instead of trying to argue what Sokka was telling him, Zuko just looked up, waiting to hear whatever he might say next. With only one thing left that Zuko pointed out in particular, Sokka took a moment to think about it, but let the words roll off his tongue without overthought.

“And you absolutely do not have that guy’s nose. His nose needed like an entire second room just to fit in with his giant fucking head and long-ass goatee, but yours is… it’s smaller. In a good way. I know you don’t think so because you have that scar but you’re really, really beautiful and aside from the fact that I would really like to see you smile right now, there is not a damn thing I would change about your face. You are gorgeous and adorable and if you ever start bad-mouthing yourself again, I’m going to have to come after you because this face is the cutest face I ever saw.”

Sokka leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to the tip of Zuko’s nose, which finally, _finally_ got him to smile. It was a small smile, admittedly, and he bit down on his lip which stopped it from coming all the way up, but it was progress and that was all he asked for. Relieved to see that his husband was calming down, Sokka let out a sigh and pulled him in closer again; closing his eyes and leaning his head on top of Zuko’s when he felt the Fire Lord’s arms finally snake around his back. He could feel Zuko’s heartbeat against his chest as they held each other close, and its soft, steady pace helped him calm down as much as his words must’ve done for his husband. Determined not to let his thoughts go back again, Sokka opened his mouth one more time to close out his speech.

“The only reason you think you look like him is because you were looking for it,” said Sokka softly, sliding another hand through Zuko’s long, soft hair before wrapping it around his shoulders. “He’s still your father, so there are going to be little bits of him in you that you can’t get rid of, but you don’t have to focus on those. You don’t have to stare at them and tell yourself they define you. Next time you look in the mirror, you look for the other things. The ones that remind you of your mother, or the ones that are just distinctly _Zuko_. Don’t tell yourself you look like your father because of one stupid little detail because you don’t. You look like you and you are the most beautiful person I have ever met. Because you know what you have on your face that your jackass father never did? Kindness. Your eyes are filled of hope and love and generosity and that’s why I always say you’re my softie because you might have smaller hands, but you have such a big fucking heart. I know you’re scared of looking like him but please don’t let that define you when there is _so much good_ right here.”

He pointed a finger to Zuko’s chest, freezing when his husband did nothing but give him a look. Slowly, Zuko took hold of his finger, sliding it to the other side of his chest, and Sokka couldn’t help but chuckle as he realized he’d pointed to the wrong side. Instead of actually saying anything about it, Zuko just looked up to meet Sokka’s eyes, twisting his hand to lace their fingers together again. He had another small smile on his face and when he saw it, Sokka couldn’t help but have one too. Without a word, Zuko leaned back into Sokka’s chest, letting out a soft sigh when his husband wrapped his arms back around him tightly. Sokka pressed his forehead to the top of Zuko’s, pulling him in a little closer when his wavy locks tickled Sokka’s cheeks.

Neither of them said a word for what felt like ages. Zuko just slid his arms around Sokka’s back, holding onto him just as tightly, as Sokka kissed the top of his head before closing his eyes again and settling into the embrace. After a long moment of silence, Sokka started to think that his husband had fallen asleep, finally succumbing to the fact that it was well over an hour past his usual bedtime. Just before he could shift his stance to lift the Fire Lord into bed, however, Zuko suddenly stirred and looked up at him, his golden eyes wide and tired as they met Sokka’s. It took him a few seconds to get his words out, and when he did, they were barely louder than a sleepy whisper.

“Thank you,” he said, his fingers twisting around the back of Sokka’s shirt. “For everything.”

Sokka only smiled as he nudged his exhausted husband into bed. He knew that Zuko felt bad sometimes for the way his thoughts ran without him, but Sokka didn’t mind it one bit. Though it might’ve hurt to see the saddened look on Zuko’s face when he first walked into the room, when it came down to it, there was nothing Sokka wouldn’t do for that man. And, even though it wasn’t him who needed help that night, he knew that Zuko felt the same way about him.


End file.
